


Seize the Desire – Camus, Kurosaki, and Contact Lens

by SnailedIt_O_V



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Camus is the biggest dork, Game: Uta no Prince-sama: Shining Live, guys being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnailedIt_O_V/pseuds/SnailedIt_O_V
Summary: Inspired by the title card for the Uta no Prince-sama Shining Live event ‘Seize the Desire’, which ran from 16 Dec 2020 to 23 Dec 2020.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Seize the Desire – Camus, Kurosaki, and Contact Lens

Camus makes a show of flipping through the background material for his character, though he really doesn’t need to – one read-through is all he needs to get a grasp of what’s expected for the next installment of a continuing drama that most of STARISH and Quartet Night have already participated in. And what’s expected of him is... 

He stares at the little contact lens case in his hand. It had come with the background material, with a note about getting used to using it since it has special reflective qualities. He shoves it in his pocket and heads to the studio bathroom, as much for a moment of quiet as for an actual bathroom break before his next job. He takes refuge in a stall and rests his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands, fingers rubbing at the pressure building in his temples. _Why...why, after all this time successfully avoiding exactly this scenario, must I now be confronted with it?_

He finishes up and exits the stall to wash his hands, only to see Ranmaru standing at the counter putting eyedrops in his eye, the one he always wears his contact in. Only sheer will power keeps Camus from turning on his heel and going right back into the stall he came out of. Instead, he deliberately tucks his materials under his arm and walks over to the sink, acting as though Ranmaru’s unexpected presence doesn’t bother him in the least. 

“Oi.” 

Camus looks over, surprised Ranmaru has taken the initiative for conversation. “What is it?” he asks, keeping his tone neutral but distant – he doesn’t really want to start an argument right now. 

“When you got a sec, pass me a paper towel, will ya?” Ranmaru asks. His head is tilted back, but the eyedrops he put in his eye are still trickling out of the corner. It’s a harmless, practical request, one that Camus can’t really find fault with, so with a curt acknowledgement he quickly dries his own hands before passing a fresh paper towel to Ranmaru. 

“This is unusual, Kurosaki,” Camus comments. “I thought you would have been lazing about in the breakroom at this time.” 

“Shut up a minute, I’m concentrating.” It’s clear Ranmaru wants to scowl, but he’s trying to keep his face neutral while he dabs at the excess eyedrops. “Damn dry studio air...” 

“If it’s so troublesome, why do it?” Camus snorts. 

“I’ve answered that a million times in interviews – go read a magazine or something and figure it out yourself.” Ranmaru balls up the paper towel and tosses it in the trash. “Besides, I bet you’ve never even worn contacts in your life, so you got no reason to judge me.” 

“Hmph!” Camus crosses his arms, the perfect picture of arrogance, but inside he’s rankled that Ranmaru basically hit the nail on the head with his offhand comment. “You’ve just never had the privilege of witnessing me, that’s all.” 

“Bullshit,” Ranmaru scoffs. “I bet you couldn’t wear contacts even if you tried.” 

“How dare you, peasant!” Camus inadvertently clutches the contact case in his pocket, but Ranmaru doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he saunters out of the bathroom. _It’s almost like he knows…no, that’s impossible. It has to be. Anyway, I refuse to acknowledge his goading. Me practicing with this contact has no bearing on his ridiculous accusations._

Except now it does. What was first nothing more than a work-related inconvenience has now become a personal challenge. Whether he meant to or not, Ranmaru has thrown down the proverbial gauntlet, and if it's one thing Camus can't stand, it's being bested by Ranmaru. If he could wear contacts, so could Camus. He'll prove it. 

V_@_~~~~_@_V 

“Hngh…hah…nng…” 

Camus grips the edge of the apartment bathroom sink in agony, tears streaming down his face and sweat running off his forehead. Despite watching several YouTube tutorials and even going as far as donning his costume beforehand, hoping that by getting into character the process would somehow be easier, it had still taken him a full fifteen minutes to finally get the contact in, and his eye is burning after all the poking and prodding. But no matter – it’s in now. Victory is his, no matter what Ranmaru says. He straightens and tries to blink slowly and normally. 

“Argh! Damn it all!” 

It still stings, and he hunches over again, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye as if that would somehow be effective. 

“Who's in there? You hurt? I'm coming in – oh...” 

Camus barely realizes it’s Ranmaru’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door before Ranmaru barges in – the pain in his eye is too distracting. But the need to save face in this rather embarrassing situation is what drives Camus’s reaction to his sudden presence, and he adjusts his posture and expression into what he desperately hopes is a calm, casual, and somewhat triumphant demeanor, with his hand no longer pressed into his eye but held casually against his forehead as though he were simply brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“How fortunate, Kurosaki – you've arrived just in time to witness me doing exactly what you accused me of being unable to accomplish,” he says, completely ignoring the fact he was groaning in pain literally ten seconds ago. 

Ranmaru just stands there, blinking in shock, and Camus is hit with the sinking realization that somewhere, something has gone terribly wrong. He holds his pose, barely daring to breathe as Ranmaru stares at him, his expression unreadable. _Oh no...maybe_ _I’ve_ _actually put_ _this cursed thing in wrong, and I am on the verge of losing my sight. Though it pains me to admit it, perhaps I must defer to Kurosaki’s judgement on this...but only just this once. His lack of reaction is truly disturbing – not like him at all..._

Ranmaru steps forward slowly, brow slightly furrowed. “Hold still,” he says, leaning forward a little, and Camus stiffens – even the smug grin on his face is now frozen in place, as though twitching even a single facial muscle would spell certain demise for his contact-clad eyeball. Time crawls to a halt as Ranmaru peers into his face. The dread building in Camus’s chest is almost too much for him to bear. 

Then, quick as a flash, Ranmaru whips out his phone and snaps a picture. 

“Wha– why, you imbecile!” Camus roars. 

Ranmaru’s killing himself laughing, tears streaming down his own face while he clutches his phone to his chest. “Your face...” he gasps, “that pose... what the hell was that?! You’re even in costume, oh my God...” He cackles in glee. “Gotta share this – Camus's first ‘contact’ with the outside world!” 

“You do that, Kurosaki, and I will end you,” Camus seethes, but inside he knows it’s a losing battle. “Show me this picture!” 

“No way, you’ll just delete it!” 

“What’s going on here?” Ai pops his head in. “This behaviour is highly unusual for you, Ranmaru.” 

“Not more unusual than this idiot putting a contact lens in for the first time,” Ranmaru grins, flashing the picture for Ai to admire. 

“Indeed...” Ai examines the picture thoughtfully. “This is...Ranmaru, will you transfer that picture to me?” 

“He will not!” Camus yells, clutching the edge of the sink again, helpless to stem the tidal wave of embarrassment washing over him. 

“Sure,” Ranmaru shrugs. He and Ai touch phones, and in a moment Ai’s phone dings indicating that the transfer is successful. 

Ai starts tapping and swiping rapidly on his phone as Camus and Ranmaru watch – the former with trepidation and the latter with curiosity. In moments, Ai presents his screen for the two of them to see, sending Ranmaru into spasms of laughter, while Camus just stands there, mortified. It’s a little rough, but Ai had managed to add the background of his character’s set to the picture Ranmaru took, making it look like promotional material for the new show. The worst part, however, is that what Camus had thought was a smug grin and a confident pose turns out to be this awkward grimace with slightly hunched shoulders. He can even see a bead of sweat running down the side of his face in the picture. 

“My God,” he says weakly. “I can’t...how did...no...” 

“Well, Mr. High-and-Mighty,” Ranmaru grins. “You got the contact in, alright – now let’s see you get it out.” 

“Shut up, Kurosaki.”


End file.
